


Something Entirely New

by MiraculousDerpy101



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, Blood, Depression, F/M, Harmful Thoughts, Killing, Other, Sadness, Sherlock doesn't know anything about emotion, You are a bit tsundere, cute moments tho, murders, slight gore warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-05 13:46:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11014653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraculousDerpy101/pseuds/MiraculousDerpy101
Summary: With a recent chain of grim murders a certain consulting detective is called in to find the mysterious murderer. Being led to a small florist was certainly a bit of a surprise to him, especially when the suspect seems so naive and sweet.





	1. Chapter 1

He groaned as he rearranged the notes on his wall, all pictures of gruesome deaths and how they were connected. There were literally only one suspect that those dimwits could come up with, and she was an enigma all in her own.

(Y/N L/N). Just by looking at her picture he could tell she was a long shot by the firm, but wasn't going to question it, just go check it out.

The taxi led to a small road with old, beautiful buildings. The fresh dew on the colorful plants from last night's rain and the dim light of the old black street lamps created a classy atmosphere and certainly was well taken care of.

 

Stopping in the small lot in front of the last building on the street, Sherlock stepped out and didn't bother with a tip, closing the car door behind him.

It was a small building, planters and lots were scattered around the perimeter and he could smell the faint earthy aroma of scattered mulch. A nice place it was, certainly a good cover for a murderer. Nobody ever suspects the butterfly now do they?

Walking up the pathway, it was as if the front was a garden itself, covered with fancy grasses and succulents with a small fountain surrounded by a few rock slates. The steps were a bit cracked, but the building looked quite tended for.

Reaching out for the door handle, he closed his eyes and listened for any sudden movements. Some shuffling in back, and then footsteps coming towards him.

"Hello sir." Female, a touch of an American accent but masked by years of living in London, nervous breaths and shuffling of her hands, three rings, all authentic gems and metals, roughly four thousand Dollars for just one of them, round diamonds on one and another with a strange eye shaped cut and gold metal shaped delicately to frame it while the last was either olivine or peridot surrounded by small diamonds. Big money, unusual for a florist.

Opening his eyes, he knew his deduction had been spot on as he closed the door behind him, glancing around at the wide variety of exotic plants.

"There's more outside if your looking for trees or more zone-hardy plants."

"I'm not here for plants, ms.(L/N)" you jumped slightly and turned around.

'Violin' she whispered quietly when he raised his left hand to fix his scarf, which in turn made him grin. Observant. Perhaps not a complete idiot. A helpful trait for a killer.

"Anyways, I'm going to need to ask you a few questions."

"Of course, Mr. Holmes." He wasn't surprised by the fact she knew his name, after all he was on the news frequently.

Interesting.


	2. Chapter 2

He wasn't sure what had happened, but in one swift movement she had pinned him against the wall before he could pull out his gun. Even though she hadn't been showing any signs of a threat, well, now she was.

"I am going to take you in for further questioning."

"No, your not."

He almost scoffed at how sure she sounded, but decided he wanted to analyze her reactions instead.

"Are you, miss (First Name, Last Name), a murderer?"

...

You were running, and he was fast. Perks to being a florist was that you always had an escape route or two. But he was on your tail, and you decided it was pointless. Without any warning, you had stopped and he tackled you down, rolling onto the grass. It was painful, but in an odd way it was the hottest thing you've seen in forever.

"I assume you don't remember me then, Sherlock?" You panted out, while his chest rose and fell against your neck.

"Not much of it, but yes, I recognize you...(Nickname)."


	3. Chapter 3

"She's the one, John."

"She's the murderer?"

"No."

"..."

He didn't even try to question but he was definitely confused.

Even more confused when a lady came barging out of the unused closet and was yelling at the detective something along the lines of "kidnap isn't on the list of a case solving!"

"Morning." The dark haired man said completely unphased, before shoving her back in the closet.

"Good night." He twisted the lock and sat against the door, though his eyes were distant and his breaths were rapid, which John could easily pick up on from his work in the army.

"What in the bloody name of-"

"Shut up John."


End file.
